Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
But none of it seems to matter.
Not when their mission is to destroy me.
I gulp and turn around, but I almost drop my phone when I see the other one standing right there, equal feet away as the other, his hoodie hanging over the mask as he pushes the tip of the knife into his index finger, looking like he’s wondering what I’ll do. Which arms I’ll run into and meet my inevitable fate.
I shudder in place and look to my right.
The entrance to the maze.
I gulp.
I will definitely get lost in there, but I have no other choice if I want to have even a shot at escaping their grasp.
So I tuck my phone into my pocket and bolt inside.
I don’t know which way to go—left, right, right, left, two further, another left, then a long way ahead, and another right. I have no clue where I am or if I’m going in the right direction, but as long as it’s far away from them, I’ll be fine.
I run through the maze until my feet can barely take it anymore. But their laughter in the background makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“We know where you are … We can hear your steps, Crystal.”
Is that … Caleb? It has to be. His voice sounds the same.
“One. Two. Three.”
Another voice I can’t place.
But each time I walk, I hear it.
“Four.” Another step. “Five. One to the right.”
He’s counting my steps?
They know which direction I’m going?
“Go on … keep running away. The more you run, the more excited we get,” Caleb calls. A deep, rumbling laugh follows, making goose bumps scatter on my skin.
I keep going left and right, trying to maintain a silent pace while also hurrying so they don’t catch up.
CRACK!
I spin on my heels to look, but no one is there.
Thunder flashes in the background, making my heart beat just as loudly.
I step back, cautious of my surroundings. But when I turn around to look, I’m precisely back in the middle of that little hidden area with the big tree and the bench where I saw Blaine.
But the exit that was once there in the back is now blocked off with several big wooden beams and a sign that says renovation.
Oh God.
I’m trapped.
CRACK!
The snapping of twigs makes me spin on my heels again, the cold of the rain settling in my very fucking bones as two masked individuals emerge from the maze. But I don’t know if it’s the rain turning my body cold or their maddening stares through those demonic golden masks.
“Found you.”
Caleb’s voice grates my soul, but it’s definitely him.
“Caleb,” I grit.
The one with the hoodie claps. “Good job. You figured it out.”
“Stop the jokes. This isn’t a game.”
“Oh, but it is. You made it one.” He points his knife at me.
“You’re crazy. I didn’t ask for any of this,” I retort.
“No? Then why were you so keen on running?” he muses, stepping closer.
I take a step back. “Because you told me to.”
“Hmm …” I can barely see the devilish smile appearing behind those scary teeth, but it’s definitely there.
“You were the one who texted me.” I hold up my phone to show him. “You’re the one playing games here. Not me.”
“Prick … apt name,” he murmurs. “But you’re wrong.”
I frown. “What?”
The other masked man pulls out a phone and shows me the texts. The texts I sent him.
“Wait, so you …” I mutter.
He tilts his head, and the low voice that follows stirs the arousal in my body, not out of free will but from the memory of his fingers alone. “Hello, little rose.”
I’m too stunned; I don’t even know what to say. “But how … You gave him my number?”
“He is a prick, I’ll give you that,” Caleb muses, snorting while Ares throws him a damning glance.
“What do you want?” I growl, trying to defuse.
Ares tucks his phone back into his pocket and pulls out his knife instead. “We already told you … do you need a reminder?”
They’re here for me.
There’s no way they’ll let me pass.
There’s only one other option.
I fish my knife from my pocket and chuck it at Ares’s head.
He avoids it, and it flies into the bushes, but I still turn around and make a run for it.
I bolt toward the closed-off exit and rip at the wood, trying to tear it away. But within seconds, two strong hands pull me away and drag me toward the middle.
“Let me go!” I yell.
They set me down on the bench, and one of them, Ares, holds a knife against my throat.
“I told you that you would regret the day you’d come for me.”
“Because you have to threaten girls with knives to make them want you?” I retort.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I want to make him feel as powerless as he’s trying to make me.